The Graveyard Shift
by genericuser22
Summary: Mike Schmidt is an endless optimist. But this positive outlook won't keep you alive as a night watchman at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza - or will it? A humourous series about our favourite night guard and the rest of the Fazbear clan.
1. Chapter 1

The purple Ford Ka pulled up in the mostly deserted parking lot, as the faded white markings came forth in the flickering streetlight. The front wheels bounced against the kerb, halting the car's movement. Only one other vehicle sat in the parking lot, a black sedan right in front of the building. The structure was mediocre from the outside, being grey and rectangular, with extensions jutting out, painted the same dull grey.

The Ford's driver stepped out, his night guard's uniform illuminated in an eerie orange glow. This was Michael Joseph Schmidt, usually referred to as just 'Mike' by his friends and family. He walked towards the closed doors, which were below a large sign, showing an cartoon of a brown bear in a top hat, emblazoned with 'Freddy Fazbear's Pizza' underneath. Mike grabbed the door handle and hauled the heavy double doors open, waiting in the lobby once through. A minute later, a portly man in a suit came through, looking about. Once the man noticed Mike, he walked in the night guard's direction. "Mike!" the man said with a huge grin. "Ready for your shift?"

"Indeed, James. Ready as anything." Mike replied with a smile. This was James Hughes, the manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, a family pizza restaurant famous for its animatronics, which had adaptive AI installed. The restaurant was also infamous for a string of child murders, an incident largely known as the 'Bite of '87', and the almost constant disappearance of night guards. Despite this, however, Freddy's had managed to stay afloat and was still successful.

"Get off to your booth, then, Mike. And don't cause any trouble!" James said with a laugh. The night guard just shook his head, smiling, and walked down the hallways to his cramped security office at the back of the building. Mike was well aware that he held the notorious position of night guard, but he ignored it. He was an endless optimist on life, and he always assured himself that his constant vigilance would keep him alive.

He strolled into his booth and slumped down into his swivel chair. His camera tablet lay on his desk, where it always was. Mike checked his watch. 11:49p.m.. At 11:55, the rest of the staff would clear out, leaving Mike solitary in the empty pizzaria. Or, at least that's what he thought it was on his first night. Some man, who was a previous night guard, had left Mike messages over the phone to help him on his first night. He had described how Mike should go about his job, but the night guard had gotten confused when 'Phone Guy', who Mike had unflatteringly christened him, as his real name was unknown, had mentioned something about the robots coming to life at night, to stop their servos locking up or something. The night guard had scoffed at such an idea, passing it off as sleep deprivation hallucinations on Phone Guy's part.

But Mike had quickly changed his mind when he noticed the abscence of one of the animatronics, a purple bunny called Bonnie (surprise, surprise, as Mike had said when he first heard the name), despite seeing the same one on the cameras not a minute before. The next six nights had been incredibly stressful for Mike, each night being six hours of sweat and fear, as the robots hunted him down, seemingly bent on getting him killed.

Mike cast a look around the room. Right here, in this chair, he had sat cowering in the dark, his limited power having run out, watching Freddy stare at him through the doorway while playing a music box rendition of Bizet's 'Toreador March' from the opera 'Carmen'. He was left sweating and terrified when 6 a.m. rolled around, as Mike sat unbelieving of his good luck to be spared, as the animatronics switched off at that time.

Mike kept coming back to his job because he enjoyed the thrill of life and it entertained him to be frightened. He was just that type of guy.

But Mike was not one to make drastic conclusions. He assumed that the animatronics just wanted to chat, but the prospect of death always nibbled at the back of his mind. But hey, he thought, better not take that risk.

This was the night guard's second week on the job, and by 1 a.m. all three of the robots were off stage. Mike searched frantically through the cameras, and found Freddy in the restrooms and Chica, a yellow chicken and part of the Fazbear band, wandering about in the dining hall. He checked the backstage camera, and jumped back about a foot when he saw Bonnie staring into the lens. _With his eyes missing_. Mike changed cameras and closed his eyes, desperately trying to forget what he had saw. When he rechecked backstage with caution, he found the rabbit missing. The night guard sighed with relief, and looked at the supply closet camera. He watched as Bonnie rummaged about inside, seemingly getting something out of the back. Mike watched more closely, peering intently into the screen to make something out of the static-laced image.

Mike later ignored Bonnie, and checked the other cameras, finding the other two robots in the same place as before. The night guard checked the West Hall, where Bonnie had come down before to attack, and saw a perplexing sight. Staring with his jaw open into the screen, Mike saw Bonnie sitting on a sturdy metal stool outside the supply closet door, but _reading a newspaper_. The night guard couldn't believe it, and actually poked his head out of the doorway to check for himself. There sat Bonnie, in exactly the same way as on the cameras, reading the same newspaper. The rabbit tossed it over his shoulder and got up.

Mike, sensing danger, leapt back in and slammed the door button. He poked the light button, and lit up Bonnie's face in the side window. The robot had his eyelids half down, and imitated what Mike interpreted as an annoyed sigh. He had his arms crossed, and after a short staring contest, uncrossed his arms and gestured toward the door. He moved his hand up to explain what he meant - open the door. Mike shook his head vigorously, then miming that the night guard would die if he did so. Then Mike was shocked, as Bonnie did something that the night guard hadn't expected. The rabbit _spoke_. "Hey. Mike! Open this door before I smash this window in." Mike stared in disbelief. "But I'll die!" the night guard replied. "You'll stuff me in a suit, right?"

"What?" Bonnie said. "We don't do that anymore. We realised the truth about ten years ago."

"Then why do you still try to get into the booth?"

"We just do it for entertainment," Bonnie said with a grin, "given that it gets quite boring here at night."

"Then what about all those disappeared guards?" Mike said back.

"Eh. They got so scared, they vowed never to come back." Bonnie said, shrugging his shoulders. "We told them never to explain their 'deaths',"(the rabbit used air commas to explain this) "and to live in South America under a different name."

"But what about that guy on the phone? You killed him, right? I heard his scream!" Mike said.

"Nah. Heart attack. Guy was so old. He came back when Chica grabbed the defibrilator. He's out of the country like the others." Mike sat and pondered over this for a while. Bonnie broke the silence once more. "Can I come in, then?"

"N-no, Bonnie." Mike stammered. "What if the others come and try to kill me?" Bonnie put his paw to his face and looked down, shaking his head. "Did I not just tell you that we aren't deadly anymore?"

"Yes."

"Well, let me in then." This time, Mike complied. He tapped the door button and Bonnie walked in. His ears scraped the top of the doorway, and the bunny was forced to bend them down to avoid damage. "Real small place you got here." he said bluntly. Bonnie sat down on the desk, but upon hearing it crack, immediately got up. "Sorry, Mike." he apologized. He noticed the camera tablet in Mike's hands. "What's that thing?" he asked. Mike explained the device's function. "Basically, I can control all of the place's cameras from this tablet remotely, and it's how I managed to keep you lot out for a week." Bonnie nodded, then started to walk out of the booth. "I guess I'll go and inform the others." he said. "Want to come?" Mike sat and thought. There were two possible outcomes to this. Either a) the others would immediately reject Mike and kill him or b) they would bring him in with welcoming arms and the night guard would escape from this endeavour alive. But Bonnie looked trustworthy, and hey, what was there for me to lose, Mike thought. So he grabbed a flashlight from a drawer and the tablet from his desk and strolled down the hallway in Bonnie's footsteps.

**The first chapter of my first FNAF fanfic is complete! I know that several of these have been made, and I am trying to make mine as original as possible. This chapter is not a rehash of either After Hours or Just Another Night At Freddy's. Those are both very good fanfics and I am not attempting to copy them.**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This arseyman, signing out.**


	2. Chapter 2

Mike strolled down the hallway in Bonnie's wake, flashlight and camera tablet in hand. His stomach felt as if it was tightly knotted, its owner anxious of how his could-be murderers would react to his presence. But Mike thought that his position was a lonely one, as he was the only human in the building for six hours each night. He needed someone, or something, to talk to who would actually talk back. The night guard had attempted a conversation with his desk fan, knowing full well it wasn't a sentient being, but it had gave him something to do during the rare moments when Freddy and co. weren't trying to enter the booth.

But, as Bonnie had said, he and the others were not coded killers, but allegedly sentient robots who just enjoyed scaring a lonely security guard. Mike hoped that this hobby of theirs would be ditched upon meeting him. He and Bonnie walked through an open door and into the large dining area. Mike glanced to the left and saw a purple star-dotted curtain. A sign outside read 'Sorry! Out of Order!'. This was Pirate's Cove, the hiding place of Foxy, the last of the animatronics. He was supposedly a red fox, with a personality seemingly very different to the others. Mike looked back over to the dining area. Freddy was there, walking up and down the rows of tables. Once the bear noticed Mike, he spun around and weaved through the chairs towards him. "Bloody hell, Mike," Freddy said softly, "it's very nice to finally meet you." What struck the night guard at first was that Freddy did not speak in an American accent like Bonnie, but the bear spoke in the way that an educated British man would. What also struck Mike was that Freddy reached out and shook the night guard's hand, not a week after scaring him almost to a crying stage. "I apologise for the, er, disturbances I may have caused you during your first week." he said with a smile.

"It's n-no problem, Mr Fazbear, sir," stammered Mike, almost as if he was talking to a particularly horrible boss.

"Please, Mike, call me Freddy." the bear said, still smiling. Chica had noticed this conversation and had started walking over by now. "Oh," she said, in a tone that indicated extreme boredom, "it's you. Finally decided to talk to us, huh?" Mike stared in disbelief. He was expecting her to be of the chirpy, girly kind. "Well? Gonna speak up or what?"

"Er, hi, Chica." the night guard replied.

"Mm. Not much of a talker, are you?" the chicken said back. It seemed to Mike that all of these animatronics were not set out to kill him, but in fact they too just wanted human company during the night. "So let me get this straight," said Mike, speaking to all of them, "instead of four murderous robots, I've got a British gentleman in bear form, a rabbit with the personality of a mischievous jokester, and a female chicken being a bit of a jerk." Mike cast another look around, as Chica shot him a poisonous look. "Well, that's good to know." he said with a grin.

"Hold on, Mike," said Bonnie, "you haven't met Foxy yet." Mike raised an eyebrow. "But I have, Bonnie. I've lost count of the number of times he's sprinted down that hallway and banged on the door."

"Yes, I get that," the rabbit said, rolling his eyes, "but not yet in person." Just as Bonnie finished his sentence, metal clanking echoed from behind. "Someone say my name?" Mike turned to see the very person they were just talking about. Foxy stood proud on his bare, suitless legs. Only now, up close, could the night guard see the full extent of the fox's suit damage. Parts of his arm's fur was gone, and a few large holes were visible in his torso. All of the suit below his knees were gone as well, which accounted for the metal clanking noises and how the fox could manage his blistering speed, at least compared to the others, as his legs were not that obstructed. "Oh, hi, Mike!" Foxy said, his jaw flapping up and down, "Christ, I never thought I'd see the day you got out of that tinny little box during your shift."

"But Foxy... you don't talk..." Mike said.

"I don't talk what? Like a pirate?"

"Er, y-yeah." Freddy then chose this moment to interrupt. "You see, Mike, we have two different voices; one for show use, the other for normal use." Mike nodded, showing that he understood. "These are our normal voices," they said in unison, in the voices they had all spoke that night so far, "and these are our show voices." Mike jumped back about a foot, thinking there was someone else in the building. Only once he got his senses back together did he take in the huge difference. Freddy had dropped the British accent and had gained an American one. Bonnie's voice was not much different, simply being a higher version of Freddy's. Chica's was slightly more feminine and much higher in pitch. Foxy, on the other hand, had gained a heavy, Cornish, pirate-esque accent and used 'be' in the place of 'are'.

"So, there we h-", said Freddy, who shook his head vigorously once he noticed he was still speaking with an American accent, before switching back to his regular British one. "As I was saying, there we have it, we're all introduced and you are convinced that we are not killers."

"Yes." Mike said, before the group settled into an awkward silence. Chica was the first to break it. "What's that thing?" she said, pointing at Mike's camera tablet.

"Well," Mike said, "this device controls all of the pizzaria's security cameras wirelessley. I can quickly switch between each one to protect this place and used it to protect myself during my first week." He viewed the dining room camera to look at himself and the others. Mike looked to the left and saw the red light, a single, miniscule sun in a sea of black. He waved at the unblinking dot, and the robots saw it come up on the screen, possibly seeing themselves for the very first time. "My God, are my ears really that tall?" Bonnie asked himself, staring in wonder at the small screen. "And I never thought myself that portly," said Freddy, who laughed along with the others at his remark.

Mike checked his watch. It read 4:29a.m.. Had he really been talking to the animatronics for two hours? It certainly hadn't felt like it. "Guys, what do you want to do?" Mike said, "We've got an hour and a half until my shift ends and you lot power off, so we can do anything for that time. Any ideas?"

"Well, we don't do much at night, just wander around and scare the crap out of the night guard," Bonnie said with a smirk.

"Okay. I'll go back to my booth. I've got a book to read, so I'll be fine if I check the cameras from time to time. And please, tell me before you attempt to talk to me, inform me in advance through the dining room camera because I don't want to be scared tonight. I'll see you in a while." And with that, he strolled down the dark hallway, his flashlight stabbing beams of bright white into the retreating shadows. The night guard shook his head and just grinned, unbelieving of the fact that he had just made four new friends, animatronics whom he had believed were murderers at the start of his shift. The horror had ended, but the enjoyment had just begun.

**Yay. Chapter 2. This took me a looong time to write in comparison to my other stuff, so blame me for procrastinating.**

**Also, I know that nobody has accused me of plagarism, but if you were, then where's your evidence? For starters, Foxy doesn't talk like a pirate and Freddy is British. Or at least his voice is.**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This is arseyman, signing out.**


	3. Chapter 3

Mike wandered down the hallway, as his flashlight threw beams of light into the shadows. The white glow picked out the doorway to his security booth, as the heavy metal door sat suspended above. Mike stepped into the room and set his tablet and flashlight onto the desk, flopping into the revolving office chair, causing it to roll backwards a foot. He grabbed the camera tablet and flicked through each room, pausing for a fraction of a second whenever something unusual popped up, but was ordinary upon closer inspection.

Mike continued to scour the cameras for anything out of the ordinary, and something caught his eye on the dining room camera. The animatronics were elsewhere, having left some time after their little 'meeting'. Two heads were visible, moving behind the far row of chairs. One of them motioned to the other to keep moving, as they were attempting to crawl without being spotted, at least not by the animatronics. Mike, sensing danger for the second time that night, got up from his chair and slunk into the corridor. He jumped back by a foot when he saw Chica emerge from the shadows coming towards him. "Chica," Mike said nervously, "don't go anywhere near the dining area. And tell the others the same." The bird looked at him, confused, but complied once Mike jerked towards with his thumb back down the corridor. The night guard moved soundlessley down the hallway and made it into the dining room. He walked stealthily towards the two unknown figures, and crouched down, his head barely a couple feet from theirs. They met when they rounded the end of the tables, and the intruders cried out in surprise, leaping back. Mike got up and looked around. Nothing came out of the shrouding darkness. Obviously Chica had successfully delivered her message to the others.

"Who the hell are you?", said one of them. Only up close could Mike place who they were. Teenagers. "Well," Mike said, "I'm the night guard of this establishment, and I demand to know what on earth you two are doing here." Mike had tried to sound like he was the one with the power, but his voice cracked as one of them got up. He towered over the night guard, who was never really tall, his glowering face in Mike's. "We just came in to see if the rumours are true." he said.

"What rumours?" Mike replied.

"The rumours that murderous robots come to life at night. Are they true?"

"They might be." Mike said pathetically.

"Hey, Damien, this guy's lying." the thug called to his friend. He turned back to Mike. "Are you gonna tell us the truth or what?" Mike shrank down and walked slowly backwards between the chairs. The night guard jumped and sprinted away.

Unbeknownst to the teenagers, however, the animatronics had been watching from the darkness. Upon seeing Mike being threatened, Freddy, who seemed to be an expert at stealth, crept around the edges of the tables to protect his night guard friend. The bear straightened up noiselessly, and nonchalantly tapped on the shoulder of the thug that had nearly attacked Mike. He turned with a bored expression on his face. "What is it, Damien? I nea-AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!". His face turned to horror and he let out an ear-piercing scream upon seeing Freddy. He obviously didn't know the truth; he still believed that Freddy and co. were killers. He broke into a run and jumped out of the open front door, joining the sidewalk and quickly catching up with his companion. Bonnie and Chica joined Freddy as the bear looked along the path that the teenagers had taken. Then started laughing, his paw over his eyes as he walked away, chuckling to himself. Foxy strolled over from the Cove. "Nice job getting rid of them, Freddy." he said. Freddy turned around, still grinning from his small victory. "It was nothing, Foxy. I guess all those years of scaring night guards into submission must have paid off."

A beam of light stabbed Freddy in the eyes. "Gah! Mike, shine that torch of yours where it isn't so disorienting!" The night guard complied, pointing the white beam down to the animatronic's chest level. "Sorry, Freddy. Anyway, well done on driving those two out of here."

"I suspect you saw with the cameras, then, Mike." Freddy said with a smile.

"Right you are. I swear, you're always on the ball. All night, every night."

"Well," Freddy said, "night is the one time of the day when I truly get to relax. No performing or anything."

"Except terrifying the night guard." Mike butted in.

"Yes, except that." Freddy said, then grinned. Mike checked his watch. "Oh crap, guys, you've got about ten minutes until you shut off for the day. I'd get back into your places if I were you." The animatronics understood, knowing of what could happen if they were stranded in the restaurant when 6 a.m. rolled around, unable to move. They started walking back to their positions on the stage, and Foxy headed back to behind the curtains in the Cove. Mike called after the fox, and then started after him when the robot didn't respond. "Foxy! I never asked, but why are you so damaged?" Foxy turned away, looking sullen with all the previous happiness gone from his face. "You don't want to know, Mike." The night guard, from previous experience, knew not to push further, and instead walked back to the others. Then, in a lower voice he asked Bonnie the same question. "Bonnie, why is Foxy that damaged, and why are you not in the same level of disrepair?" Bonnie too looked sullen after being asked, and replied with, "You really don't want to find out, Mike. It's for the best." The rabbit's usual mischievous look was gone, replaced with a look of despair. He sounded like he had something caught in his (mechanical) throat.

Soon, 6 a.m. had come and gone, with the animatronics back in their normal places. Mike walked to the front door, and waited for James, his manager, to arrive. The portly man came to the front door a minute later. He nearly stepped on the crowbar that lay upturned on the concrete. "Christ, Mike! What's this doing here?" The man in question, who had been leaning on the door, stepped forward to explain. He told James all about the incident with the intruding teenagers. The manager understood completely, and vowed to get 'those two delinquents' under control. Mike, for some reason, chose not to inform James about the animatronics' supposed sentience. Maybe because he would be branded as mentally insane or something similar.

James walked inside, inspected the dining area, and walked back out. He told Mike that, fortunately, the teenagers had not caused any damage to the pizzaria. Mike handed his manager the keys to the place, and the night guard strolled over to his car. He stuck the key in the door, pulled it open, and slumped inside onto his seat. He jammed the key into the ignition, started the engine, and drove out of the parking lot.

The thought of whatever was bugging the animatronics was nibbling at the back of Mike's mind, but the optimistic night guard just ignored it. He was much happier with the prospect that he had made four new, but unlikely, friends. The morning sunrise stabbed beams of light into his eyes, but he didn't mind.

For once, his nights at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza might actually not be filled with fear from midnight to 6 a.m..

**Woo. Mike's 'first' night is over. The next night will expand the story more, I can assure you.**

**But first, this fanfic's popularity has absolutely skyrocketed. Well, you might be thinking, it is a FNAF fanfic, so it'll get crap tons of attention anyway, and to be honest I was thinking the same thing. But it's still my most successful.**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This is arseyman, signing out.**


	4. Chapter 4

Mike drove sleepily along the highway towards his current residence, a block of flats on the edge of town. The night guard pulled into the garage at the bottom of the building, which was underground and brightly lit, accessed from a steep incline that went from the road to the base of the garage. The white markings that formed parking spaces were spread along the walls, with another group of them in the centre. A few were coloured yellow to signify disabled parking, the distinctive symbol in the centre of these spaces. Two identical grey pillars stood on the edges of the island spaces to support the ceiling above. Several cars sat scattered around the garage's floor.

Mike's Ford Ka pulled into an empty space, its plastic front bumper scraping the concrete wall, earning a curse from its driver. The night guard stepped out wearily, slamming the door shut and trudging sleepily across the concrete floor. He reached the door and pulled it open, before ascending a narrow, spiraling set of stairs.

He strolled along the corridors to his apartment on the second floor of the building. He stood before the door to it, a brass number 21 nailed to the wooden door. Mike pressed on the doorbell, as a high pitched buzzing echoed around him. The door was pulled open by a tall man in a security uniform, with his eyes half open and lazily munching on a half-eaten piece of toast. "Oh. Hi, Mike." he said in an annoyed voice.

"Hi, Jeremy," said Mike with a huge grin, "how was your night?"

"The usual," Jeremy replied, "animatronics pissing around." While the two men were talking, a short person dressed in a similar uniform emerged from the doorway, sticking his messy blond-haired head under Jeremy's arm. His eyes were wary, darting from left to right. "Fritz?" Mike asked, "what the hell are you doing?" Fritz straightened up, this time poking his head around Jeremy's shoulder. "Just seeing who was outside." the short man said, his voice incredibly unconvincing.

"You know it's me, you short imbecile, not Freddy."

These two men were Jeremy Fitzgerald and Fritz Smith, who lived in the same apartment as Mike. The three were close friends, who had met during high school, and had somehow stuck together despite their incredibly different personalities. Mike was always the troublemaker, Jeremy the goody-goody two shoes and Fritz the guy who was constantly picked on.

As a result, the three held pretty much the same job: a security guard at a Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Mike was the night guard at the location a few miles further towards town, and Jeremy and Fritz were night guard and day guard respectively at an older location further away. The two would switch positions every other day. Jeremy was much more competent at his job that Fritz; the former reportedly had never made a mistake, and was set, serious, and stony-faced for six hours straight. Fritz, on the other hand, was reportedly terrified of holding the position, cowering behind the desk for his whole shift, but kept going as he needed the money.

Both had worked longer than Mike had, and when the night guard was told tales about the animatronics there coming to life at night, he had passed it off as something akin to a cruel joke. But when Mike had experienced the same thing during his shifts, he began to think that the two restaurants were somehow connected - other than the name and basic premise, of course. Then Mike's two friends had told tales about them befriending their animatronic companions, where Mike had stopped believing. He had passed off every comment about the pizzaria from then on as a lie if it came from their mouths.

But, after the events of that morning, Mike finally realised that Jeremy and Fritz were somehow telling the truth. The night guard made it his mission to inform the others as soon as possible. "Hey, Jeremy," Mike said, "I need to tell you somethi-"

"Is it important?" Jeremy interrupted. The emotionless man was watching TV at that moment, his cold eyes fixed on the screen.

"Well, yes." Mike said, "You know how the robots at your place are friends with you and Fritz?"

"Yeah..." said Jeremy, confused.

"Well, the same thing's happened to me." Jeremy snapped his head towards Mike, smiling slightly. "Well, great, you believe us." He went back to the TV, indifferent to before Mike's 'shocking' reveal.

"What are they like at the other place?" said Mike as a door slam signaled Fritz's departure.

"Well," said Jeremy, "there's the same set of characters that your place has, plus two others." This did not answer Mike's question, but did help, as he hadn't been to the other location.

"I mean, what are their personalities like?" Mike pressed.

"To put it bluntly, varied. Freddy's a violent Cockney, Bonnie's a flamboyant male and Chica's a perfect example" (Jeremy used a hand effect to emphasise) "of a dumb blonde." Mike sat and thought. "What about Foxy?" he said.

"There is a Foxy there, but we don't refer to her as that anymore." Jeremy said as Mike raised an eyebrow. "'Her'?" he said, very confused. "Mm. She's a female version, coloured white and pink. She was battered by kids until management turned her into a 'take apart and put together' attraction. So now," Jeremy said with a grim smile, "we address her as 'the mangle' or just 'Mangle'." Mike stared in disbelief, thinking over how badly the other location's robots were treated. "As for her personality," Jeremy continued, "she's always in a bad mood and very irritable about her treatment. She has her own area, so nobody bothers here unless allowed."

"What about the other two?" Mike asked, still curious.

"Well, there's a really short animatronic that I refer to as 'that little prick' who gets on everyone's nerves. He goes by the name of Balloon Boy, or just 'BB'. But I call him by his nickname that I have for him."

"And the other?"

"This puppet thing that's always confined to his box. He never speaks unless absolutely necessary, and always creeps me out. I have to wind this music box to make sure I don't piss him off."

Mike sat in thought for a while more. "Interesting," he said, "doesn't sound like a very likeable group, but I'd like to meet them nonetheless."

"Hold on, Mike. I've got an idea to satisfy your needs."

"What?"

"How about we switch jobs?"

Mike sat back and pondered over this for a while. "Well," he said, "obviously not tonight, as you're on day shift, and we haven't asked our bosses yet."

"Okay," Jeremy said, "we ask our bosses tonight, and if they agree, then we switch the next night. Deal?"

"Deal." Mike said, and shook his friend's hand to cement the decision. Mike sighed. The night at the other location was sure to be a long one. He walked off to his bed, thinking of what could happen that night.

**Yay. Chapter 4. Here, we meet Fritz and Jeremy, or at least my interpretations of them. The next chapter is sure to have much more action, I can tell you that.**

**As a side note, this fanfic officially has 700 views already. And 8 follows. I am incredibly humbled and very, very thankful for this support. I never expected this to be that popular (well, it is Five Nights At Freddy's, so it's bound to happen).**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This is arseyman, signing off for the night.**


	5. Chapter 5

At the start of Mike's next shift, he asked his boss, James, if he could go along with the plan to switch places with Jeremy. "Is this Jeremy of yours a good worker?" James asked, nervously biting his thumb.

"Supposedly," replied Mike, "he has never made a single mistake, according to him." James broke out a huge grin. "Then he's perfect! But where will you be?"

"The 'other location'." The manager's face looked stricken, as he began biting his thumb once more. "I'd be careful if I were you," he said, "that place is supposedly worse than here." James gestured to the lobby that they were in with a flick of his wrist.

"Well," said Mike, "best not think about the bad and look forward to the good."

"Then it's settled." James patted him on the shoulder, gave a quick 'bye' and strolled out of the restaurant's open front doors. Mike smiled and walked down the corridor to his booth, smiling to himself over his small victory. He slipped in through the doorway and practically threw himself onto the revolving chair. It rolled back a few feet, bouncing lightly against the wall. Mike picked up the camera tablet and flicked through the rooms, pausing for a millisecond on each one. The entire restaurant was empty, of course not counting the four animatronics that resided there. The time in the top-right corner of the small screen read '12 a.m.', signifying that the robots had just activated for the night. Mike wheeled the chair over to the desk and grasped the intercom microphone. "Hey. You huys, come to the security office, I have some important news." He sat back in his chair and waited, piercing the darkness of the corridor with his flashlight, a distant part of the night guard's mind thinking that this would stall their movement towards the booth.

He did this for another minute or two, and was shocked by a small tap on his shoulder. The night guard turned and screamed upon seeing Freddy standing before him, despite warming up to the bear the previous night. "Oh, God, sorry, Freddy," Mike apologised, "you scared me there."

"Not a problem, Mike." Freddy said in return. Bonnie was standing behind him. "So, what's this all-important news, then?" the rabbit said impatiently.

"The thing is," said Mike, "that I'm not going to be here tomorrow night."

"But where exactly are you going to be?" asked Chica.

"That's the catch," Mike said with a grin, "I'm having another security guard take my place for the night, and I'm taking his."

"Where will you work, though?" Foxy pressed on.

"The 'other location', if you know where that is."

"Oh, God, no. I remember that place." Bonnie said from under his paw. Mike raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why? What's so bad about it?"

Freddy decided to explain to Mike as to why the other location was so unliked by them. "You see, Mike, we were built several years ago, maybe even before you were born. Our very first performance was at the first Freddy Fazbear's, then called Fredbear's Family Diner. That place closed down, and we were shipped off to a new location, where we were put in storage. We would, strangely, reactivate during the night, like we do here, and we met a new set of animatronics based upon us. While we could get up and move during the night, we were confined to that room during the day. These days, the other location is still in business, and when demand soared there, we were shipped away once again and we ended up here." Freddy gestured to the room they were in, as if to further inform Mike. The night guard spoke up, a pressing question still on his mind. "But why do you hate the place so much?"

"Not 'hate', _per se_, but more of a strong dislike," the bear replied, "and we have such distaste for it, simply because the other animatronics there were extremely irritating."

"Mm," said Chica, "specifically this little bastard who would always talk to us despite our dearest wishes for him to piss off."

"And my bloody counterpart as well." said Freddy, his face a mask of utter annoyance.

"What's so irritating about him?" Mike said.

"You know how I've got a British accent?" Mike nodded. "Well, he's got a Cockney accent and he's always picking a fight," with a wink, "despite the fact he can't fight."

"Hmm," Mike said, "looks like Jeremy was underestimating these guys." The animatronics froze. "Who's Jeremy?" asked Bonnie.

"My roommate, closest friend and the guy who you'll be meeting tomorrow night."

"What's he like?", asked Foxy, "Does he know that we're... you know..."

"Sentient?", Mike finished, "Yeah. In fact, he found out about it before I did."

"Well," said Freddy, "that's got everything cleared up. Do you need anything, Mike?"

"No thanks, I'll be fine here." After that conversation, the rest of the night went silently, except for a few times when Bonnie pressed his leering face right up to the window. And at 6 a.m., Mike handed James his keys, gave his manager a quick nod, and headed back to his apartment.

When he got there, he met Jeremy on his way out, who was on his way to start his day shift. "Jeremy," Mike said, "remember to ask your boss. I've asked mine and he said yes."

"Perfect, Mike." said Jeremy. The rest of the day was a normal one, and that evening, Mike left early to get to the other location. The drive was a total slog along the freeway, as Mike leaned on the wheel with his hands pressed tight on the circular frame.

He eventually got there, and immediately noticed that this building was much bigger. It was still painted externally with the same shade of grey, with an identical sign to Mike's usual workplace. The double front doors were already open, as the aging janitor had just left for the night. Mike strolled in, and was met with quite a contrast in the shape of his temporary manager. Instead of a fat, jolly man like James, he now faced a thin, tall, condescending man with a steely look and sharp glasses. "Michael Schmidt," he said leaning in on the poor night guard with the complete absence of a smile, "you're late."

"Sorry, sir, I didn't know it was this far, I lef-"

"That is irrelevant. You should have been told by Mr. Fitzgerald about the correct time to arrive. Now, chop, chop, we haven't much time. Get to your office. Once I leave, the pizzeria is in your hands."

Mike complied, feeling like he was forced to, and almost ran towards his booth. It was a much longer distance from the front doors to the security office, and threw himself into the chair. A different camera tablet sat on a larger wooden desk, as opposed to the plastic one that he had in his usual room. The tablet, however, was larger and bulkier, complete with a thick cable coming out of the left side, plugging directly into the mains. He switched the aging device on, and flicked through the different rooms. The stage, with three new animatronics. Four party rooms. A large dining area, with a small carousel and a statue of a young boy who supposedly sold balloons. A separate room, labeled 'Kid's Cove' with jumble of parts, with a head vaguely resembling a fox. Must be the Mangle, Mike thought. Part of a room labeled 'Prize Corner' with a couple shelves, a countertop and a large present-style box. A hallway. And a mostly empty room called 'Parts and Service', which was where Mike's animatronics must have 'stayed' during their years here. The room had a few parts scattered around.

Mike put the tablet down and sat in his chair, drumming his fingers absent mindedly on the desk. Then, a sound that made the night guard jump out of his skin. A metallic clang. It seemed to come from the right, where there was a large air vent opening into the office. It came again, from the same place. A skin-coloured plastic hand shot out, resembling a ball attached to a thin rod of the same colour, a bit thinner than the hand. It clenched a wooden sign with 'BALLOONS!' engraved on the flat surface. Then, an entire body crawled out and stood up. It was the same 'statue' that Mike had seen in the larger dining area. It was obviously an animatronic. He had brown hair and peachy skin, and wore a blue and red striped shirt, with a matching propeller beanie. He wore brown pants and brown shoes. His face seems to have been permanently fixed into a smile that almost appeared crazy when looked at for too long. "Hi!" it said, "I'm called Balloon Boy, but also known as BB! What's your name?"

"Er, Mike." Mike replied.

"Do you want a balloon?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I have lots of colours, blue, and red-" Mike was already annoyed.

"Go and stand over there," said Mike, gesturing to the doorway, "where I can see you better." BB complied and stood in front of the hallway. The night guard walked around the desk, stood in front of the diminutive robot, and gave him a good solid kick to the chest. The animatronic flew onto his back and skittered down the hall, instantly disappearing into the shrouding darkness. "That's one taken care of." muttered Mike under his breath.

**We finally meet one of the Toy animatronics in this chapter! And I've provided some good old fanservice by showing the little dick get battered by Mike.**

**Also, ONE AND A HALF THOUSAND VIEWS?! I never thought that this would happen. That's like, double the people in my school. Amazing.**

**I'm also working on a FNAF comic at the moment. When finished, I'm gonna upload it to my deviantART page, where I also go about under the name arseyman.**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This is arseyman, signing out.**


	6. Chapter 6

Mike stood and triumphantly watched BB disappear into the shadows of the hallway. Not that it was much work banishing him from the office, anyway. The night guard stood and waited until he heard a reassuring thud, meaning that the little animatronic had skidded to the end of the hall. Mike walked back to the desk and sat back down, once again flicking halfheartedly through the cameras. Nothing of interest popped up, with all of the other robots still in their orginal places from the start of the night.

Mike continued this for a while, before footsteps shook him to his senses. They seemed to emit from the impossibly dark hallway. The night guard gingerly picked up his flashlight and flinched while pressing the button, fearful of what could be down there. The beam lit up a taller animatronic, this time a rabbit, painted sky blue with a white belly. It had a white muzzle with freckles, and rosy red cheeks. It had piercing green eyes with purple eyelids, and shockingly large eyelashes. For a second, Mike thought that it was female. Then it spoke. "Oh, hi!" he said in a voice that had large traces of feminism, yet was still distinctly male, "You must be Mike. BB's told me aaaaalllllll about you!" He put on a large, goofy grin.

"Er, hi." Mike said with uncertainty, leaning back about a foot, "h-how are you?"

"Oh, I'm super, thanks for asking!" Mike was getting slowly irritated, but the flamboyant rabbit was nowhere near as annoying as BB was.

"C-could you go back to w-where you came from, maybe?"

"Oh, no! I want to know sooooo much more about you! I want to tell you about the oth-" The two were interrupted by a clanking, rattling noise that came from the vent opening to the right of the office, opposite to where BB had emerged. A white and pink fox's head, badly damaged and missing an eye, poked out of the opening. Then, a whole, twisted, bare metal body crawled out and walked up the walls, coming to a rest on the ceiling. The head turned to look at them, as did an endoskeleton head, also missing an eye. Bonnie was the first to speak after this short silence. "Hi, Mangle! Have you met the new ni-"

"Shut up, Bonnie. No, I haven't met the goddamn new night guard yet," Mangle said, before muttering "for Christ's sake," under her breath. "Now get the hell out of this office. Our new night guard here is obviously annoyed." The rabbit reluctantly did as the fox said, walking dejectedly out of the room. "God, I'm so sorry you had to listen to him for that long. Stupid thing talks so loudly. Drives me up the wall half the time," Mangle said, adding a quick "no pun intended" on the end.

"So you're Mangle, right?" Mike said, pointing to the spider-like fox. The animatronic in question sighed exasperatedly and put an exposed metal paw to her face, slowly shaking her head. "Yes, of course I'm Mangle, I figured that you would have realised by now. Obviously you either weren't listening to that irritating little shit," she said, gesturing her head towards the now thankfully empty hallway, "or you haven't yet noticed my destroyed body."

"Sorry, I-" said Mike, but Mangle continued to rant.

"You want to know how this happened? Yeah, little kids ripped me. Limb. For. Limb." she said, punctuating each word for emphasis. "Originally the staff would put me back together each night, but the lazy sods gave up. And now those same little kiddies destroy me every day. Without punishment."

"Oh, God, I'm so-" Mike began, before being cut off by the mangled fox once more.

"Shut up," she said, her one eye steely and cold (in an emotional way), "don't talk to me any longer. I enjoy terrifying Jeremy and Fritz, not you." And with that, Mangle scurried out of the room, crawling along the ceiling and disappearing into the shrouding darkness. Mike raised his eyebrows and sighed, once more flicking through the pizzaria's cameras.

One hundred miles away, and two hours earlier, Jeremy's Renault Clio that he shared with Fritz pulled up in the other Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, in the space that Mike usually took. In one swift motion, its driver stepped out onto the concrete and slammed the door shut. He walked over to the open door of the building and stepped through. There, he met James Hughes, the manager whom Jeremy had never met. "Good evening," James said with his usual huge grin, "you must be Jeremy!"

"Indeed I am." the night guard said, without an ounce of happiness. James looked visibly disturbed, at best, at Jeremy's irritance. "Small place you've got here." the night guard said, upon casting a look around the room. "Well, your office is down that hallway," James said, as he gestured towards what Mike knew as the East Hallway. "I-I'll meet you at dawn." the portly man stuttered. Jeremy strolled confidently down the corridor, casting a few side glances at the faded posters. He walked into the booth, ducking down under the door due to his height. He fell into the chair and picked up the camera tablet. He watched the dining area and sat waiting until Jeremy was alone in the building. Once the manager and janitor had vacated, he immediately got up, flashlight in hand, and strolled down the West Hallway.

Freddy, Bonnie and Chica stood on stage until 12a.m., at which point they looked with uncertainty at each other. Each stepped off, one by one, and walked in the general direction of the security office. Freddy, who wasn't exactly paying attention, nearly ran over Jeremy before noticing the stabbing beam of the night guard's flashlight. The two collided and Jeremy jumped back, a crowbar in hand that he had held behind his back. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," the night guard said, "alright, you fat fuck, I'll give you one chance. You so much as think about fighting me and I'll brain you. Or whatever the robot variant is called." Jeremy pointed his crowbar in the bear's face. Freddy stepped back, a visibly !"distraught look on his face from Jeremy's threatening gesture. "But why ever would I do that?" the bear said, and his accent completely threw Jeremy off track. The night guard had entirely expected this Freddy's personality to be a carbon copy of Toy Freddy's; violent and always looking for a fight. But this Freddy seemed to be peaceful and sophisticated, complete with an educated British accent as opposed to Toy Freddy's Cockney. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" Jeremy exclaimed. "I seriously thought that you were going to attack me."

"But why the hell would he do that?" Chica echoed with snark from the back.

"Long story." Jeremy replied.

"Why don't you tell us, as you were about to bash Freddy's head in?" said Bonnie. Jeremy sighed with relief. At least this Bonnie wasn't incredibly annoying.

"Okay, then." Jeremy said. "Basically, at my place, you guys all have counterparts, and-"

"Oh, we get it now." said Chica. "You thought that our Freddy had the same personality as the other Freddy."

"Wait, what? You guys know them?"

"Yeah, 'course we do," said Foxy, who had just turned up, "we were housed there for a few years. I don't think I remember seeing you in the night guard position, though."

"Mm. I think I must have took the job after you guys left."

"It appears so," said Freddy, who had spoke up after a lapse of silence.

"Well," said Jeremy, "that's gotten everything cleared up."

"Mm, yes," said Bonnie, "I wonder how Mike's getting on?"

Woo hoo. Chapter whateverthisisIcan'tbebotheredtocheck. We meet some of the other 'bots and we see Jeremy react to the other part of the Fazbear clan.

**So. Yeah. I'm back. After a longish hiatus, I have officially returned. I had basically ran out of steam for a week or two and will be posting again. Though it might be slower. I've discovered that playing video games and pausing every few minutes to write gets me better in the mood.**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This is arseyman, signing out.**


	7. Chapter 7

To put it bluntly, Mike was not doing very well. Mangle had just vacated the room in anger, leaving the night guard solitary for the next few minutes. Mike was expecting another animatronic to visit him, and he was prepared. He would pick up the stapler on his desk and he would thro-.

Mike snapped his head towards the hallway. A loud sound was ringing around the restaurant. It resembled a whistle, but with a sorrowful scream thrown in. It came in short bursts, for a second every two seconds, as Mike had figured out. It kept coming and coming, and was seemingly endless by now. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and goosebumps broke out on his skin. He compared it mentally to hearing Freddy's deep laugh when the bear was traversing the night guard's regular workplace. Mike stood up, and quickly glanced around the room instinctively. He sat back down and grabbed his flashlight, stabbing beams down the hallway.

The sound continued. Half of Mike wanted to go and see what was causing the sound and ask them nicely to turn it down, and the other half demanded that he stay rooted to the spot; after all, the maker of this sound could be a one-way ticket to the morgue. Mike lit up the hallway again, and there, standing at the very end of the hall, was Freddy Fazbear. Or at least it was the newer one. He was still the same brown as normal Freddy, but his hat sported a red stripe and he had the same red cheeks as Bonnie. His stomach was also noticably large in comparison to his counterpart. "Oi!" he said, "What the fuck do you fink you're doin', lad?" Mike immediately noticed his very strong Cockney accent. The bear walked down the hallway and through instinct, Mike reached his hand over and slammed the light button, thinking it was the door button. Upon seeing the vent opening light up, he punched the wall above, and he cursed in pain as his fist connected with the brick. Only now had the stricken night guard noticed the abscence of a door system. Freddy continued to close the gap between him and Mike. "Fatty," said Mike, "if you take one step closer I'll throw this stapler right at your head."

"Do you really fuckin' fink that'll hurt me?" Freddy replied.

"Probably." Mike lobbed the utensil at the bear, then felt his heart sink like a lead balloon upon seeing it sail past the animatronic's head and clatter down the hallway. Freddy walked into the spacious office and drew his fists. "I'll fuckin' fight ya, I will." he said. Mike got up and walked around the desk, as Freddy punched him in the arm. It was something comparable to a weak slap, Mike noticed. Remembering the effectiveness of the move on a previous enemy, the night guard responded by swiftly raising his foot between Freddy's legs, as a loud whack echoed around the room. The bear's pupils contracted to pinprick sizes as he clutched at what would have been his crotch, had he been human. Freddy shook his head and limped off, still holding the area between his legs. Mike stood triumphant, suprised that his attack had worked. He walked back to his desk and slumped down in his chair.

The animatronics gathered in the Game Area, discussing their separate encounters with Mike. BB had a large, dirty footprint on his chest and he complained of back pains. Naturally, nobody paid his any attention, except for Chica, who, rather pointlessly, told him that they'd get a band aid. The bird was not the brightest bulb in the box. Mangle sat, dejected, in a corner over having to be reminded of her appalling treatment.

At that moment, Freddy came in, hunched over, with his hands clutching the space between his legs. He stood with the others for about a second, before collapsing outright and laying curled on the floor. "Is he hurt?" Chica asked.

"Yes, of course he's fucking hurt, why else would he be groaning and clutching his groin?" snapped Mangle, who had crawled over by now and hung suspended from the ceiling. Freddy, meanwhile, continued to moan in pain. "You know," Mangle said, "I think that Mikey over there," as she gestured down the hallway with her head, "ought to be paid back for this."

"What do you mean?" asked Bonnie.

"I mean," the fox growled, "that our brand-new security guard thinks it okay to just insult us like he did tonight. But," she held up a finger, "I think that we should indulge in a little," as she rubbed her hands together, "revenge."

Mike sat, very bored, in his chair, mindlessly spinning around in it and watching the room turn around him. He decided to have another look at the cameras, and absent mindedly flicked through. None of the rooms seemed to hold anything out of the ordinary, but when Mike found the camera for Party Room 4, the hapless night guard jumped out of his skin, almost literally. The sight that had greeted him was Bonnie staring right into the camera, his huge green eyes seeming almost glazed over with a lack of meaning behind them. It wasn't as bad as the other Bonnie's eyeless Backstage stare, but it was frightening nonetheless. Mike put the camera tablet down, still shaking from his recent scare. He was just preparing to cast another look around the restaurant, when the ominous whistle-like noise restarted. Out of instinct, Mike grabbed his flashlight and pressed the button with a trembling finger. He looked up, only to see the hallway as dark as it always was. He tried again. Same result. Again. Same result. Again, again and again, with the exact same result every single time. The flashlight wasn't working. Mike began to sweat and panic, when finally the bulb decided to turn on, bathing the corridor in harsh white light. What was there was far worse. Both Chica and Mangle stood in the hallway (well, the latter sort of hung), but with their endoskeleton eyes shining like pinprick white suns. Chica was worse, though, as she had taken her beak off and her endoskeleton teeth were jutting out from her gaping jaw. Mike just sat there, speechless, as he thumbed the flashlight button again, only to find it had shortened out again. The night guard cursed and began pressing the button again.

Mangle crawled out of the way, hanging just outside of the flashlight's reach. She silently gestured to Chica to get out of the beams of light that were sure to return anytime soon. The fox and the other animatronics had night vision installed to their eyes, as they could only free roam at night and would damage themselves in the gloom. Chica ran across the hallway, footsteps echoing on the tiles. She stood below Mangle, not two seconds before Mike's flashlight flickered back into life, lighting up the hallway and picking oit every feature within thirty feet. Chica very faintly heard Mike say, "Oh, God, they're gone, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." Chica smiled at the thought of their little plan working, and said "This is fun." in her quietest voice possible.

"Shut up!" hissed Mangle, who was worried that the bird's voice would give away their position. The lack of response from the hapless security guard down the hall told the two that Mike was still oblivious to their true location. He was probably thinking that the two were in the vents or something. After a couple minutes of waiting, the two crept down the corridor and ducked into either side of a doorway.

Mike began frantically checking the vent cameras to make sure that there was nothing undesirable in them. After several minutes, the night guard put down the tablet and lay back in his chair, resting his hands on his face. He halfheartedly thumbed the button on his flashlight, and upon seeing the hallway mercifully empty, went back to the cameras. Then a quiet, but still audible 'Hello' sounded from the left. Mike threw down the tablet and looked around with darting eyes. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he looked back at the cameras. A similar sound, this time a 'Hi'. Mike repeated his previous action, and was greeted this time with laughter. Mike warily put the tablet down, and for some reason BB was back in the room. He stood and continued to laugh. Mike thought that there was something off about him, and couldn't quite place it. Then he saw. BB had something in his hand. Which was Mike's flashlight. The diminutive robot laughed once more, and broke the device in half with surprising strength. The night guard just sat there, speechless. He really had no words for what had just happened. Then, he snapped back to his senses, and realised that he now had no way of figuring out where the other animatronics were. Footsteps echoed from the hall, and Bonnie stood there, with his pupils incredibly small for some reason and his face lit orange by the light in the office. The rabbit just stood still, not moving then whispered "You can't.", then leaped towards Mike. The night guard screamed and dashed out of the way, as Bonnie smashed into the wall behind him. Mike kept screaming and sprinted out of the room, running flat out down the hall. He zipped through a hallway and didn't stop until he reached the front doors, fumbling with his keys to open the doors. He was greeted by his seemingly malovent temporary boss, who still had the same steely look. "Mr Schmidt," he said, with a humourless smile, "you seem to be in quite a hurry to get out." Mike glanced back at the dining area behind him and saw the three main animatronics standing on stage in the faint moonlight. Bonnie appeared to have no damage on him, despite leaping into a wall not two minutes ago. "Scared of the animatronics, I imagine?" he said. "No reason to. They don't move, you know." Mike opened his mouth to correct the manager, but his brain told him otherwise. Mike just shook his head, handed the manager they keys, then sprinted to his car once he was out of sight. The hapless night guard hoped that the encounter was just a bad, bad dream, but the scrape on the wall in the office and the remains of a flashlight proved quite the opposite.

**Chapter 7 (I think) is now out! Sorry if this took a while; writer's block, you know. I'm sure we've all experienced it at one time or another.**

**If you pay any attention in your life, you will know that the first of my FNAF series of digital humourous art had been published at .com. I am currently making an emotions sheet for Mangle, with suitably funny anecdotes inserted in.**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This is arseyman, signing out.**


	8. Chapter 8

Mike slammed the accelerator as his small car skidded out of the parking lot. What had happened there was terrifying, so much more scary than whatever the animatronics at his regular location had done. They had only slunk around the halls, making creepy faces while staring right into the cameras, and ocassionally pressing their ghastly faces against the security booth windows. But they had never straight-up threatened him like what had just happened that night. Mike was still shaking from the memory. For crying out loud, he was nearly crushed by a giant animatronic rabbit!

Half an hour later, Mike screeched into the parking garage at his apartment block and slid into his space, narrowly scraping a pillar that sat in the middle of the car park. He swung open his car door and and ran across the concrete, soon ascending the narrow stairwell. He sprinted along the hallways and barged open his apartment door, earning a shock from Fritz, who jumped about a foot into the air. "For God's sake, Mike!" he shouted, "Don't come in so quickly! You gave me quite a-"

"Where's Jeremy?" Mike interrupted, not bothering to listen to Fritz any longer.

"Someone say my name?" said Jeremy, who had walked into the room from the kitchen, nonchalantly leaning on the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand. The two guards spoke in unison. "How was your night?" they said. Jeremy spoke first. "Well, left the booth at 12a.m., nearly beat Freddy's head in, then got to know the others and then talked for four hours." Mike looked at him with strange jealousy. "Mine was much worse, Jeremy."

"How?" the guard asked.

"Well, I meet BB, kick him and he goes flying down the hall," (Jeremy burst into laughter at this point), "Toy Bonnie arrives and annoys me, Mangle comes in and I insult her by accident, Toy Freddy comes in and I kick him in the groin, he leaves, then the animatronics gang up on me and Bonnie nearly kills me." Jeremy paused for about a minute taking in this information. "Much worse, indeed." he said, walking over to the sofa and plopping himself into the seat. He put his feet up on the coffee table and picked up the television remote, beginning to absent mindedly flick through the channels. It seemed that Jeremy had lost all interest in the situation. Mike shook his head and walked to his bedroom, flopping onto the bed and lying down.

The next night, the night guard arrived at his usual Freddy's close to the witching hour, and went through the normal routine before walking the halls to his booth. Mike stepped under the heavy metal door and sat down in his swivel chair, picking up his camera tablet and flicking through the cameras to get himself comfortable. He watched the others leave the building, but stayed in the booth once 12 a.m. rolled around.

About an hour later, after having a short chat with Freddy at the door, Mike sat and absent mindedly flicked through the cameras. Suddenly, very clearly, the night guard heard his name being called from the halls. It was a man's voice, belonging to somebody he did not know but it sounded strangely familiar. Somewhat disturbed, Mike popped his head into the hallway and glanced into the gloom. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he stabbed at the darkness with the beams of his flashlight and again saw nothing.

After returning to his chair, Mike sat puzzled over the noise, and was contemplating whether he was imagining it when he heard it again. There it was, clear and loud, a man's voice calling the night guard by his formal name. By now Mike was getting annoyed. He picked up his flashlight and strode into the corridor, watching the shadows retreat as the harsh white light cleared the way. Mike entered the dining area and was shocked to see a man sitting on one of the tables. Foxy was standing several feet away, staring in disbelief at the figure that sat, relaxed on the table. Bonnie and Chica silently paced backwards, their faces masks of horror. Mike took in the man's features before speaking. The figure was quite old, around 60 years old or so, and had grey, balding hair. He had a bristly chin and sharp blue eyes that calmly surveyed the pizzeria. For some reason, he also wore a night guard's uniform, seemingly dating several years older than Mike's. But the most noticeable feature, by far, was that the figure seemed to exhibit a yellowish glow.

Mike, slightly frightened, spoke up. "Who are you, and what the hell are you doing here?" The figure turned his head towards the night guard and simply replied with, "Well, hello Mike!" The man in question staggered back in shock. "How the hell do you know my name?" he said. "And also, why are you dressed like-" Mike stopped himself, realising who this man was. "_Phone Guy _?!" The figure frowned. "Well, if that's what you'll call me, yes I am the 'Phone Guy' as you have put it."

"Aren't you dead or something?" asked Mike, rather perplexed.

"Yes, if you say so." Goosebumps began be break out on the night guard's skin and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. If 'Phone Guy' was dead, then that must mean...

"The fuck? You're a... a... spirit?" Mike stammered. This had gotten all rather... well... odd. No wonder the figure sat before him was glowing an off-colour. "I thought that ghosts were the stuff of fiction."

"Well, as you can see with me, it seems that it is quite the opposite. And please," he added, "call me Peter." Mike began to slowly pace backwards. When he was younger, things such as ghosts and spirits would terrify him to the core, and the night guard was experiencing an awful reprise of his childhood feelings of horror. "Wait, wait, wait," Mike said, "if no other guards have died, then why are you still here?"

"Well," said Peter, "my time came to an end during the 1970's, when I worked at the first incarnation of this restaurant. Like you, I was a night guard, as you can see by my uniform. I had worked as a night watchman for over twenty years, in several different locations. Shopping centres, restaurants, train stations, airports, the lot. Due to my extensive knowledge and experience, I was tasked with training a rookie guard at Fredbear's by leaving him messages over the phone, and-"

"So how did you leave me phone messages?" interrupted Mike.

"More on that later. On the fourth night of this guy's training, I was recording my messages, and I wasn't on the ball that night. So, the animatronics managed to get into my office and Foxy screamed at me from a doorway. Now, as I was quite old and smoked, the assault literally gave me a heart attack. I died practically on the spot." Mike interrupted again, having just realised something. "Hey, Bonnie," he said, gesturing to the rabbit who was standing transfixed several feet away. "Didn't you say that Peter recovered from his heart attack?"

"Well," Bonnie said, "I kinda lied. We didn't know back then that these guards were human. He later appeared to us in spirit form and told us to keep it schtum."

"Anyway, Peter," Mike said, "carry on, then."

"With no phone calls to aid him, the rookie guard was caught and suit-stuffed. This is why you haven't seen him in spirit form; his soul is confined to the suit he was stuffed into. As I died otherwise, my spirit is free to roam, but his is sadly not."

"With the deaths of two night guards in one week, Fredbear's was forced to close. The 'bots were kept to reuse at another location, and the second restaurant opened, under the new name of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. To keep the next night guards from suffering the same fate, I possessed the phone to aid them through the 'recorded' messages. The two survived and still work there, and I still 'visit' them. A new restaurant opened, this one, and my older messages were reused, leading to where we are now." Mike put his hand on his chin and contemplated this retelling of Peter's life (or, rather, death) story. "I hope that all has been explained by now." Peter said with a smile.

"I guess." Mike replied.

"Well, as all is good, it seems I am no longer needed. Farewell, Mike." Peter said.

"Wait!" called Mike, "Will you still be around here?"

"Yes, Mike. Call me in future if I'm needed at all. See you on the flipside." And with that, the yellow glow seemed to soften, and Peter slowly dissolved from sight. As the inky black of the shadows returned and overpowered the yellow, Mike ruffled his hair, breathed a sigh, and returned to his booth.

"I really need to cut down on my coffee intake."

**Chapter 8 is complete! And I bet you all thought I was dead. In reality, of course, I was not six feet under but suffering from severe writer's block. What is it? Two months? Whatever. Sorry.**

**Five Nights At Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon.**

**This is arseyman, signing out.**


End file.
